


Honey in your tea

by tooyoungtoknow



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU where Light is blind, Could be a Married AU, Feels, L being an idiot in love, Light being an idiot in love, M/M, a little sad, but also sweet, but hiding it slightly better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooyoungtoknow/pseuds/tooyoungtoknow
Summary: Light falls with a cup of hot coffee in hand. L is to blame.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	Honey in your tea

There was a stumble and a crash. It came from somewhere in the kitchen, and L heard it clearly through the opened door. Had he been anywhere else, with more people present, they would have been kept shut, for privacy and silence. But in his own home doors were always opened, small beige bags filled with sand keeping them in place against the wall. Light had sulked about it, claiming that he was acquainted with the apartment well enough, that would not walk into doors, and he was most probably right. L, however, didn't want to take any chances. Accidents could happen, no matter how graceful and sure on his feet Light Yagami was.

Now though, as he pushed against the hard-wood desk littered with papers and leapt out of his chair, hearing it to swivel across the floor and hit the wall, he knew it wasn't Light's feet that had betrayed him.

He passed through the long hall framed on either side by bookshelves barely touching the carpet beneath. The smell of freshly brewed coffee carried through the air as he reached the dining area connected to their kitchen and he spoke even before the picture of a perfect disaster came into view.

"I moved the table."

An obvious, unnecessary statement.

Light was still laying on the floor, arms stretched forward to protect his head from the fall, and the handle of the broken cup still around his index finger like a ring. Dark liquid had splashed all over the tiled floor and was flowing still through the silicone-filled cavities between them, but Light would be relieved to hear it hadn't reached the white carpet. Shards of white porcelain lay like a minefield between them.

"I noticed." Light said, voice strained, but otherwise composed "Why?"

"The tile under one of the legs cracked." L explained "I wanted to take it out."

He expected an angry exclamation of "you should have told me" or some such, but was surprised when all Light did was nod in acknowledgement and proceeded to pick himself up.

L dashed across the coffee stained floor narrowly avoiding a couple sharp pieces of broken cup and kneeled down to help. He felt the warmth against his skin as the denim of his trousers began absorbing the liquid.

"I'm sorry that I forgot to tell you."

He reached out to catch Light's arms and pull him up into a sitting position, but he did not want to let him farther because of all the sharp pieces scattered around.

"Did you spill coffee on yourself?" he asked, anxiously inspecting the younger man's creme-colored jumper "Are you burnt somewhere?"

Long-fingered, soft hands caught his own and stopped their wondering, and L realized they were wet. Quickly, he bunched up the end of his sweater and used it to dry them off, earning a grunt of protest from Light. When he was finished he inspected the smooth skin, to find it a little reddened.

"I am sorry. " he repeated, using two fingers to catch the white handle and gently pull it away, trying not to touch and irritate the skin more.

"It's alright. I'm okay." a moment's pause, and then "I broke your cup."

He smiled at that.

"Yes, it would appear so."

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize. I'm the guilty one, aren't I?"

Light nodded slightly, then seemed to stare off into the distance, but of course that wasn't the case. His eyes, smart and big and beautiful, were not looking. They just looked like they were looking. It was an illusion L had yet to get used to after all this time. It was the sharpness in them the stillness. The laser focus they presented when Light looked straight into his face, and that he could do with a chilling amount of success. They were nothing like the the paled, confused ones he was used to seeing on those people in the long white halls of Light's clinic of choice. Because of course Light would not go to one of the world renowned specialists L could have on his payroll in one phone call. He would not walk through the streets with a white cane. He'd made himself memorize the turns, the passageways, the cracks in the pavement, and he walked arm-in-arm with L like any runway model, silently counting his steps. Oh, a stubborn, prideful man his love was. But lovely, so, so lovely.

"Are you going to help me up?" he said, and L realized he had once again, as was usual the case in his musings of Light, forgotten the current predicament.

"Wait," he murmured "there are sharp objects around. Let me clean up first."

He bent and collected the largest pieces of white porcelain covered with smudges of coffee.

"You liked that cup." he heard Light say, and hummed. It may have been true, most likely in fact, since Light sounded convinced. At the moment however, all L could recall was that the cup in question was a minefield around Light's socks-clad feet.

"It was useful I suppose."

Light hummed in response, and them proceeded to pull his hands out of L's grip. As he watched they stretched, willowy fingers reaching, coming dangerously close to the floor before he snatched them out of the air and brought them safely into his lap again.

"Your hands, however, will not be useful if you cut them open." he said quietly, running his thumbs over the pulse which gently ticked beneath the flushed skin.

"I won't cut them open." Light responded, and this time he sounded irritated. "It's not the first time I've broken a cup."

L nodded, but kept Light's hands in one, while the other of his own hands collected the remaining shards of the broken cup. It was awkward and impractical this way, but certainly a better solution than letting the stubborn blind man attempt to do it just to prove could.

"There we go." he said when all the danger was out of the way. "You can stand up now."

Light let him pull him up, then shifted on his feet, lowering his eyes to the floor as if he was inspecting the mess. He drew his finely shaped brows together, creating a crease in the smooth forehead. Then slowly he made his way out of the kitchen, brushing L's sleeve as he passed, as if misjudging the distance between them slightly. It was what he always did, and L was almost certain it was on purpose, but he'd never voiced this for the fear having Light stop doing it.

"You'll have to mop it up." he heard him say, in his ever practical way.

"Later," he muttered, then swiftly caught the the end of the creme sleeve between two fingers "come sit with me first."

"Don't let it stain the carpet."

"It won't stain the carpet." he pulled on the sleeve, heading over the cold tiles, avoiding the coffee puddles "Come sit."

Light followed, but huffed as he sat, crossing one leg over the other and L followed the movement with his eyes, trying to count the creases in the material of his trousers.

"I'm not a child, L." he said, hands settling into his lap, with the barest twitch as they came into contact with the material there. Maybe L should get some ice.

"I agree. At twenty five you could hardly call yourself one."

Light's eyes snapped up. That look, so piercing, so angry. Ah, the unseeing eyes that were windows to the mind which could see it all.

"Don't play dense." a cold tone "It's doesn't make you as charming as you think."

L sat quietly, slightly away. How not to anger a tiger with wounded pride? To serve him his own head on a silver platter? 

"I am sorry I caused you to fall by being stupidly careless." he spoke slowly, gently "I want to make sure you aren't hurt. Why do you make it into something spiteful in your mind? After all this time..."

 _Why, indeed. You know I don't think you a child, though you act like one. Why do you say it? Pettiness doesn't suit you, and yet you wear it like armor, every time you feel vulnerable_.

Light sighed. He didn't respond and L knew all his unspoken arguments were running through his head. After all they had already had this fight time and time over. Always about something ridiculously small. Always because Light would rather fight with L than with the darkness that surrounded him weather his eyes were opened or closed. Silence stretched between them like a flavored chewing-gum until L's hand reached across the sofa, and his finger hooked itself behind Light's leaving them intertwined like links on a chain. This was how all their little fights ended, without either party saying they were sorry. It was only hands, fingers touching, interlinking, promising to stay together even if their minds did not agree. It was the only way they could go forth, wanting the closeness of the other while not willing to let go of the prospect of being right. It was the only thing they could do sometimes, to stay prodigy and world's greatest detective, and still fall asleep in the same bed at night, stealing each-other's covers, relying on the other's heartbeat to lull them to sleep.

Minutes passed in silence. When Light spoke, his voice was low and soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing the peace born of that short wordless interval.

"I was going to bring you coffee"

So simple. So thoughtful. But then again, Light always was. And L was thoughtful for one person in the world only. Except today.

The case had bothered him for weeks, and now it was unraveling like a bobbin caught in a furiously working sewing machine. He'd wanted to watch the chase he'd sent the FBI on, to observe, to tie up the ends. But to hell with that.

He opened his mouth, but Light's fingers bending to press his own stopped the words on his tongue.

"Don't apologize again. You'll regret it tomorrow."

A smile crept onto his lips.

He gripped the hand that was nearer to him gently, around the wrist and over the creme colored sleeve and brought it to his lips. He kissed the palm. Then he took hold of the other and did the same.

"I'm sorry, Light" he whispered, smile widening "Next time I'll go with you into the kitchen. I'll make the coffee, and I'll make you some tea. I'll make sure the stove is turned off, and that the kettle is cooled down. I'll put honey in your tea. I'll make sure no sharp pieces are lying on the floor, that the chairs are set in their places, that the tiles aren't cracked."

Slowly he kissed up the arm and then across the shoulder, whispering soft words into the jumper beneath his lips. Then he cupped the face in his palms, reveling in the sweet caress of the hair across his fingers. He kissed the lids of the eyes Light had closed, drawing closer to the warm, supple body they belonged to, settling against it, smelling the fresh, clean smell of shampoo and deodorant.

 _How I love you_ his lips seamed to shape against the smooth skin _How I hate to hurt you_.

Light's burned hands found their way to his waist, pressed tightly into it, as if there were no pain.

"L" Light's lips whispered, and he understood without further words.

He kissed them lightly, slowly, as if they were burned too, smoothed over them with his tongue as if it were a balm, sighed into the warm mouth behind them as if his breath was the cooling air from an opened window.

"The carpet, L" but the words were breathless, heated "Don't let it stain the carpet. "

He sealed the ever practical mouth with his own. He'd buy a new carpet, if just for the satisfaction Light would get from knowing that it was clean and unstained when he stepped onto it. Anything for Light. Everything for Light. Every single breath he had in his lungs.

The words whispered against his lips were urging him away, but the hands around his waist were pulling him nearer, and so that is where he stayed. He closed his eyes and imagined living in this darkness every day, knowing only sensations and this all-encompassing heat, and this closeness. At this moment it didn't seem so terrible. He whispered "Light" like it could dispel the darkness, like a prayer, over and over, until he was sure that he was the blind one, and when his eyes opened he would see the world for the first time.

 _In the darkness you see, and in the darkness I have always lived in, be my light_ , he thought.


End file.
